Page 54 of My Vampire Plus-One

He ignored the question. “You’re gonna die of overwork before fifty if you don’t at least occasionally have some fun.”

I stared at the stack of documents on my desk. The deadline for the Wyatt filing was getting closer every day, to say nothing of all the files I’d been neglecting because of it. And here I was, contemplating leaving the office before seven.Again.

I wanted to tell him all this. But then I realized he was right. Ididneed a break. Not one where I was rushing off to yet another family obligation, but one where I just took some time for myself and shut my brain off for a few hours. And maybe had a drink with a handsome someone who I was definitely, absolutely not dating for real.

“It probably would be smart for us to get to know each other better before we have to pretend to be dating at the wedding,” I mused.

“Would that help you?”

I stared at him, confused. “Would what help me?”

“Would it help you leave this office before midnight if you tell yourself there’s a purpose to it?”

His swift and entirely accurate read of me was unsettling. And yet somehow, it was unsurprising. “Yes,” I admitted, embarrassed.

“At some point you should learn how to take breaks just for the sake of relaxing,” he chided. “But I’ll take it.” He extended his hand towards me. “Shall we?”

I stared at his hand, remembering the way it had gently cupped my cheek when he’d kissed me. I willed myself to snap out of it. Getting a drink with him tonight was about unwinding,and about getting to know him a little bit more in advance of the wedding. Nothing more.

And the way we held hands all the way to the elevator, and then out the door of my building? Simply practice for the big event itself.

If only I could have convinced my racing heart, we’d have been in business.

FIFTEEN

Memo from George, Secretary of The Collective, to John, President of The Collective

To: John

From: George

Subject: Reginald Cleaves

Dear John,

New plan needed. R.C. saw me in the lobby of the hotel where he’s been staying, recognized I was a vampire, and fled.

At our next meeting we should discuss strategies that don’t involve sneaking up on him in places where he lives. All attempts to apprehend him that way have failed. He’s a wily one!

George

Reginald

Taking Amelia Collins out fora drink had been a bad idea.

On the scale of bad ideas I’d had over the past three hundred years, placing my hand at the small of her back and guiding her into the seedy bar a few blocks from her office probably ranked somewhere between Mardi Gras, 1989, and that thing I did that one time in Paris.

But there I was, taking her out for a drink anyway.

I probably could have blamed my poor decision-making on having just run into someone who might have been a member of The Collective. He’d worn the same generic business-type clothes anyone staying in a hotel in the Loop might wear, so I almost hadn’t spotted him for what he was.

But I knew he wasn’t human the second he flashed his fangs at me on my way to the lobby to get a complimentary toothbrush and the day’s edition ofUSA Today.

The man could see my fangs, too, if the way his eyes zeroed in on my mouth was any guide. Another dead giveaway. The glamour that disguised our fangs from humans and let us hide in plain sight didn’t work on other vampires. I’d have said this lapse in glamour functionality would one day be my villain origin story if I didn’t already have at least four of those.

In either event, once I knew he knew that I knew he was a vampire, I’d sprinted out of the hotel lobby before I could find out if it was just happy coincidence that another vampire was staying at the Marriott, or whether The Collective had tracked me down again.

I’d wandered the Loop aimlessly after that, dressed in a suit Frederick lent me a week ago. My only plan had been to go on a walk to clear my head, and to possibly find a new hotel since the Marriott was now obviously out.

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